Scared, Pretty Boy?
by JockShipper
Summary: A short little fic for Chref on tumblr


**This is for Chref on tumblr! (Chref . tumblr . com) Sorry in advance, this is my first Chref piece so it might be a _little_ OOC.**

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Chris was sitting in a room in the Spa hotel, annoyed and slightly jittery. He couldn't believe that happened. This was _his_ show! Zeke can't just kidnap him on his own show like that! He wanted to sit and watch the contestants get lost, but he was too busy hanging upside down over bubbling green whatever-the-fuck-it-was to do so. Though he did feel a little better when everyone came to 'save him' like that, even though he was bribed. He sighed and got up to go get some ice cream. He had a whole cellar full of his favorite flavor: mint chocolate chip.

As he was walking down the stairs, he heard silent growls. He screamed, but once he looked around and saw no one, he rolled his eyes. He's been hearing noises like that since he got out of the mine, and it's seriously creepy. He opened one of the cabinets. Okay, this one's empty. He looked in another- no ice cream. And another, and another, and _another._ He groaned in frustration then heard a creak from the top of the staircase. He screamed again, but stopped once he saw Chef coming towards him.

"What's wrong with you, Pretty Boy? Heard you screamin'." He chuckled

"Yeah, well. You're hearing things. Chef, where the fuck is all my ice cream!?"

Chef's eyes widened but he quickly told a _teensy_ _little_ lie, "Uh that intern, helpin' me with the monitors, ate all the ice cream. Damn shame."

Chris glared at all the empty cabinets, "OH. His ass is _so_ fired."

_Whoops, sorry intern._ Chef would apologize to him some other time. "Well, I'm going back upstairs." He said as Chris followed him. He'd ceased walking when he heard a whimper, sounding similar to a puppy's. Turning around, smirking, he taunted, "Am I still hearing things?"

"Keep it moving, fry cook." Chris replied with a glare on his face.

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Chef and Chris's rooms were right next to each other. Meaning Chef got the _marvelous privilege_ of hearing him scream every 10 minutes.

"If he screams on more time I swear to god I'l-"

"AAAAAH!"

"That's it!" Chef exclaimed as he stomped towards the door. As he forcefully swung it open, he saw Chris, standing there in his matching pajamas and nightcap, pillow and teddy bear in hand. All of the anger he walked to the door with had subsided to nothing as he looked at a frightened-out-of-his-mind Chris.

"Uh, Chef… C-can I sleep in h-here… J-just for tonight?" He asked looking up at him.

"What are you even scared for?" Chef said, raising half of his eyebrow.

"Uh, **one**: I'm not scared, I'm just a little jumpy. That's it. And **two**: I keep seeing something… and hearing something… and it's seriously putting me on edge."

Chef thought for a moment. Chris's puppy dog stare was getting heavier by the moment. "Alright, Pretty Boy! But you better stay on your side of the bed or else you'll be losin' a few limbs." He threatened, moving out of the way so the host could enter. Chris layed on the right side of the bed, Chef on the left. He insisted because "the host is always right."

The room was engulfed in complete silence, Chef almost asleep, before Chris spoke up. "Chef?"

"What, Chris."

"Thanks, for y'know, trying to save me… Even if you failed miserably."

Chef could just feel Chris smirking, but he ignored that last part because he was thanking him for something. But he just _had_ to point something out, "You couldn't save yourself? I have to say Chris, you were looking like you were 'bout to cry in there."

Chris sat up in indignation, taking the blankets with him as he did. This caused Chef to give him a glare. "I WAS NOT! I could've and _**WOULD HAVE**_ kicked Zeke's feral ass in _two seconds flat_ if he hadn't ambushed me like that!"

After pulling the blankets back, Chef replied coyly, "You sure? You were screamin _pretty_ loud… Everyone heard it… It's all on camera too… _All. On. Camera..._ All-"

"**THAT'S NOT THE POINT!** I'm thanking you!" Chris interrupted him, "And what part of _'never to be repeated, or SPOKEN OF challenge'_ do you not get?"

"You're welcome. But I really don't get the _'never to be spoken of'_ part. I mean, it _was_ on international TV man. That's the farthest away from forgotten you can possibly get." Chef said as he turned his back to Chris, as if about to go to sleep again.

"Oh, shut it, before one of your pans go missing." Chris threatened.

"Hmmm," Chef wondered out loud, "I wonder where I can get some urinal cakes…"

Chris sent his lying figure a death glare. "YOU WOULDN'T."

"Try me." He retorted.

Chris cursed and layed down, facing the other way. "Way to spend the 100th episode."

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**It was very pointless and didn't really have a plot, but I just wanted to be a part of something. Heh-heh**

**And for the people that follow me, and get an alert for this, I just wanna tell you that I am in the process of writing. Shouldn't be too long. **

**~JockShipper**


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